“I gwine tame him—I gwine tame Jezrul! He gwine feel de toof er de big green sarpint. He gwine be hot in de mouf an’ cole in de belly. I lay I gwine l’arn him!” Slowly the work grew under the clumsy, eager fingers, and the sunbeams were shining through the chinks before she hid the little image of Jezrul in a crevice by the chimney. * * * * * [Illustration: “‘BURN! BURN!’”] All that day Crecy moped alone in the cabin; she had been dismissed from the “Big House” for nodding over her work, and Jezrul had not even interceded; but there was some comfort in it all, for she was freed from the humiliating comment of the house negroes and the despised shoes had been left behind, though the loneliness was oppressive, for the Christmas festivities were at their height. Still keeping her fast, for she had eaten nothing since the day before, she stirred the coals upon the hearth, whipping her wrath into a frenzy; and as she heard the voice of Susanne in the quarters and Jezrul’s laugh that followed, she thrust the image through with a toasting-fork and held it over the flame. “Burn! burn!” she hissed. “Burn wid de fires dat’s er-eatin’ out dese in’ards,—’case I gwine ter tame you, Jezrul! Burn, I say!” And putting out the blaze that started, she held the thing over the coals again. “Hit ’ll retch yo’ heart, an’ sizzle hit lack de fires er de debil, ’case you gwine ter be mine, Jezrul!” Day after day Crecy tortured the little image, now sticking it full of pins, now scorching it again, but always taking the precaution not to utterly destroy it—“’case he cain’t die—’case he’s mine,” she muttered. Though night after night the festivities went on, Susanne coquetted and Jezrul laughed, and Crecy was forgotten. But New-Year’s Day had filled the quarters with sensation, and dozens of ears were tingling with the news. Old Marse had been giving a stag dinner to the judge of the circuit and the attorney-general. They had been sitting at table for nearly three hours, and Jezrul, who adored such great personages, was in his glory; but just as he was bringing in the cigars and liqueurs with his usual flourish upon such occasions, he fell in a fit at Old Marse’s feet. Such a thing as a ripple in the course of one of Old Marse’s dinner-parties had never occurred before; the Colonel was beside himself, for he was helpless without Jezrul.